I'm Still Here
by Breathe From Your Hoo Hoo
Summary: [MR friendship] As long as he had his friend by his side, he didn't care.


"So Marky, how're they treating you here?"

Mark sighed, sitting cross-legged on his bed, arms bound tightly. "Ok, I guess. Everyone here thinks I'm crazy, just because I keep talking to you every day. I mean, come on. What's a guy gotta do just to talk to his best friend here?"

Roger wrapped an arm around his best friend's shoulders and pulled his closer. "Well, you know they're all just jealous, don't you?"

Mark smiled dreamily and rested his head on the rock star's shoulder. "I think the whole world is jealous of me."

Roger grinned. "There! _That's_ the spirit!" he said, patting Mark on the back. He then gestured to the plate of squishy peas, a dry slice of bread, and a roll of pork with more shine than a freshly polished shoe. "Holy shit, is that your lunch?"

Mark wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, it's supposed to be. They don't even know I'm Jewish. I think I prefer the food in our loft to the food in this place." He sighed, tears brimming in his eyes. "I prefer a lot of things in the loft than this place. God, I miss everything. But most of all, I miss you."

"Oh hey there, Marky-boy, don't cry. I'm still here with you," said the rock star soothingly while rubbing Mark's back gently. "I'll always be here. You can take the bohemian outta the loft, but you can't take the loft outta the bohemian, now can you?" He lifted Mark's head to face his own. The Jew smiled sadly.

"I miss you so much Roger. You'll always be a part of my life. Don't ever forget that," he whimpered.

Roger blinked back his tears and hugged his friend. "Of course not. I'll always be here with you Mark. You're like a brother to me." Mark leaned against him with all the strength in his weakening form. Just then, the door opened and in walked an ageing man, with greying hair and a stone-cold face.

Mark turned around and scowled at him. "What do you want now, Dr. Walter?" he spat.

Dr. Walter regarded the former filmmaker for a long time before saying. "Talking to your imaginary friend again, Mark?"

"Roger is _not_ imaginary, you imbecile! He's my best friend since high school and he's right here," growled Mark.

Dr. Walter sighed and shook his head disapprovingly. "Mark, how many times do we have to keep telling you? Roger died three years ago, once his AIDS got the better of him. You were at his funeral. You cried like a widow when they put his coffin into the ground. You were admitted into this hospital by your friends two weeks later when they found you talking to Roger like he was still there. It's been three years since then and you haven't even shown any signs of improvement. If anything, you've actually gotten worse. You're hallucinating like crazy, Mark."

Mark glared at the doctor, his body bucking and twitching. "You sonofabitch. If I wasn't wearing this fucking straightjacket, I'd kick the living shit outta you _right_ now!"

The doctor chuckled cynically at him and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Oh I'm sure you would, no doubt about that. But just remember that I'm only doing my job. I'm trying to help you get cured, Mark."

"I don't wanna be cured. I just wanna talk to Roger every day and every night. See, he's right there, waiting for you to get out of my room so he can sit with me again." Mark pointed his face to the corner of the room. Dr. Walter turned around to have a look.

"Um, Mark? There's no one there. That's just a wooden stool," said he.

"No, Roger's sitting on it, doofus," scoffed Mark. "Go take a closer look."

Dr. Walter sighed with finality. "Whatever, Mark. You need to stop having these hallucinations." He pulled out a stethoscope, a thermometer, a blood pressure machine and some inkblot drawings. "Right now, I need to do some tests on you so we can assess the extent of your mental illness."

While Dr. Walter was busy getting his instruments set up, Mark look over his shoulder, to where Roger was sitting on the stool, a cheeky with warm smile on his unshaven face. Mark smiled back. He really didn't care whether he was insane or not. As long as he had _his_ Roger by his side, nothing could ever take that away from him.

The sane world could just go fuck itself.

_**The End.**_

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hope ya'll liked it. Just a little drabble oneshot thing. Peace!

And please use that little button in the bottom-left corner. Thanks heaps!


End file.
